


Sword and Shield

by acoletterose



Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: Action/Adventure, Duty, Gen, Giant Spiders, Honor, Self-Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:27:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acoletterose/pseuds/acoletterose
Summary: When I went through Skyrim there weren’t any lovely patches and mods. Back when kids walked to school uphill both ways in the snow. And if your follower got lost they friggin stayed lost.Where were they? What were they up to?This is what I imagined.





	Sword and Shield

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t own anything even remotely related to the Elder Scrolls series.

The spider at my feet has begun to disintegrate. I can’t have been here that long, can I? Surely not. It’s likely just the moisture of this cave. Either way, I’ve lost track of time. At the very least, I’ve had a lot of opportunity to consider the events that brought me here.

“I am your sword and your shield.”

So it began. I’m a Nord. Duty is in my blood. It’s what I live and breathe. The day I recited my oath to guard, ending with “honor to you, my Thane,” I began to follow the path that I will never stray from. I’ve always been a bit brash. Rushing into combat is what I do. And it just so happens it’s what a housecarl is required to do: the Jarl’s life takes precedence over your own. To be a housecarl for my homehold of Whiterun was my sole ambition in life. To have actually achieved it is something to which I look on with great pride.

I have to close my eyes to give them a rest. These glowing mushrooms are deceptively bright. Given the spider at my feet, I almost wish it were darker. I did  _not_ expect _this_.

It started with rumors, whispers. “What next? Carnivorous rabbits?” I asked the recruit who had the audacity to sit next to me. I’d hoped it would shut him up, and it did. Dragons. Nonsense.

I had more important things to worry about. The duty roster had placed me in the main hall of Dragonsreach. I’d be watching Jarl Balgruuf. Numinex himself wasn’t going to get by me. Dragons. I caught the attention of Avenicci with my chuckle. Perhaps if I thump my chest he’ll think it was a cough. It would be just my luck to end up guarding the dungeon because that damned Imperial decided to speak to Irileth about me.

By the Eight, there she is. I’m not sure why she insists on stalking everywhere she goes like she’s about to cut somebody down. That day though, she seemed particularly menacing. I had a bad feeling about it. As she began reporting to Jarl Balgruuf about the watchtower, I couldn’t help but wonder if she had hit the skooma. A dragon sighted at the western watchtower? A recruit is one thing, but Irileth?

Skooma... I can hear water dripping somewhere further into the cave. I think maybe I should find it. A drink wouldn’t be amiss. Even if it were skooma. It’d at least warm me up some.

The speed that she arrived to report to the Jarl had caught Avenicci’s attention almost immediately. It was clear he was trying to get more information. Probably trying to find out how much dispatching a dragon would cost. As he asked his questions it was obvious that the Jarl had more decisive action in mind.

“What would you have me do, then? Nothing?” My chest filled with pride at our Jarl. No milk-drinker, him.

Milk. I scrutinized the milky eyes of the dead spider. No, maybe not milk.

I’d never seen Irileth wound so tight. Skooma or no, a threat to any of the watchtowers was a problem. Avenicci obviously didn’t understand the necessity of protecting the hold at any cost. “My lord. Please. This is no time for rash action. I just think we need more information before we act.”

And then Irileth was drawing her sword. I couldn’t help but hope she was going to get rid of that spineless Imperial once and for all. But she seemed to have focused on someone other than that wheedling coward. She prowled towards the stranger that had arrived. He was a Nord, and it looked like he didn’t have a single piece of matching armor on him. What did he do, pull it off all the various corpses strewn about Skyrim? I’d have laughed about him and the dragons if I hadn’t been busy loosening my sword in its scabbard. If he thinks he can march up to the Jarl, well, I’ve never been more ready.

I laugh now the way I wanted to then. Traveling with him, I figured out quickly that was _exactly_  where he got his armor.

I watched as Irileth sought the meaning of his interruption. I heard him mention Helgen, but he was too far away for me to hear what he had to say. Whatever it was, it convinced Irileth, as she put her sword away and brought him to the Jarl. The look on her face.... Then I could hear him more clearly, and I feared for Riverwood and wondered if this man’s message was true. It seemed he came to Whiterun on his own initiative and the reward he received from the Jarl was well earned. The Jarl took him to Farengar for further plans. I didn’t envy him that.

Wizards. At least spiders have the decency to get within arm’s reach when they try to kill you. Once they’re done spitting venom, that is.

In the days to come it seemed that I’d cemented my role in the Keep. The duty roster placed me in the main hall each day. I must have made an impression, perhaps on Irileth herself.

The stranger returned a few times, to speak with Farengar and Avenicci. Once, I even saw him talking to the women that sweep the main hall. At the time, I couldn’t even begin to imagine why. Now I know. He talks to everyone. I don’t know how he manages to find the time, but he does. I doubt there’s a person existing in all of Skyrim that he hasn’t talked to at this point.

I consider telling my tale to the spider. Then I wonder if the glowing mushrooms aren’t beginning to affect me in some way. Perhaps I should stop standing in the middle of the cave and sit. But the walls are coated in webs and sacks that likely contain the corpses of less skilled adventurers. Perhaps not.

The rumors and whispers became louder. About the dragons. And about the stranger. The recruit was back next to me at meals. There really was a dragon. He must have felt vindicated. I told him “I don’t have to know what something is in order to kill it.” He shut up again. For good, I’d hoped.

I wonder idly if the spider was proud to have been killed by the Dragonborn. That was a hell of a thing to hear about from the Watch. That he spoke the words of the dragons after he killed the one that destroyed the watchtower. Everyone heard the greybeard’s thundering call to him after. Except for Avenicci. Hm. I suppose this cave could be worse. I’d take a giant rotting spider over Avenicci any day. Between the lack of wizards and Avenicci, I might decide to call the cave home.

And then the fates turned to me. “You’ve done a great service for me and my city, Dragonborn. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun. It’s the greatest honor that’s within my power to grant. I assign you Lydia as a personal Housecarl.”

I have to admit, Breezehome was nice. Much nicer than where I am now. The stench of mouldering corpses leaves a bit to be desired. And when my Thane asked me to follow him because he needed my help, well, it was my duty to tell him to lead the way.

I can’t say I was thrilled to carry the multitude of items he decided to keep during our travels. I can see the gaping hole in the spider at my feet where he took the venom sacks. And I’m certain I once saw him squirrel away a cabbage and yarn. While I am sworn to carry his burdens, I’d preferred if he carried such useless things himself. My pack reeks of rotted alchemical bits.

I suppose, in a way, that I got myself into this particular mess. “Hey, look, a cave. I wonder what’s inside.” Never could keep my mouth shut. Eight dead eyes accuse me. It would still be alive if I hadn’t noticed the darkened opening.

We had been doing well. We carved through a number of frostspiders, a few bears, and even a troll. My Thane also seemed to be rather pleased with the moonstone vein we found deeper inside.

But then.

That booming voice that tosses draugr through the air echoed towards me: “Lydia. I need you to do something.”

“Alright. What is it?” I asked him and sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to ask me to rummage through a particularly large looking egg sack nearby.

“Wait there.”

Relief. “As you wish, my Thane.”

It must have been three days, at least. I think that perhaps I ought to leave, to go back to Breezehome. But, I was ordered to wait here. I would never dishonor my Thane by disobeying a direct order. He must know that. Perhaps this is a test.

I doubt the spider would understand my problem. They eat their own young.

He won’t forget that I’m here.

I will wait.

“Honor to you, my Thane.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know that Lydia and other followers are supposed to return to their default spot after three days but, they still seem to get lost sometimes, don’t they.


End file.
